


Don't ask me (I'll never tell)

by calathea



Category: Pitch Perfect (2012)
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-27
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-02 19:45:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1060849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calathea/pseuds/calathea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A snippet of Jesse/Beca(/Benji). </p><p>For Bexless, who made me watch the film.</p><p>The title is totally ironic, honest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bexless](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bexless/gifts).



The third time Benji walks in on Jesse and Beca having sex, Jesse doesn't really catch what he says, mainly because Beca has her thighs around his ears and therefore he's pretty much deaf, and also because he's concentrating too hard on what he is doing. He vaguely thinks he hears Benji's voice and feels Beca tug harder on his hair, and then he hears the door to his room slam, but when he looks up and says "Was that Benji?" she just frowns at him and nudges him back down to what he was doing without replying.

It's only afterwards, once Beca decides that she's done with him for now and after he's taken a totally cliched nap face down on the bed where she left him, that he really thinks about it again. He surfaces from sleep to find her lazily drawing patterns on his back and half singing, half humming idly to herself.

"I... are you riffing on Call Me Maybe?" he says, alarmed. "Please, tell me that song is not in your Regionals set. Please."

She shoves at him and smirks, but says nothing.

He thinks about sitting up to interrogate Beca further, because no, really, that song is an abomination, but then she scrapes her fingernails down his spine lightly and he forgets the question. After a minute or two of shuddery enjoyment, though, he assembles enough braincells to open one eye again. Beca is staring at Benji's side of the room.

"He came in again, right?" Jesse asks.

Beca nods, still looking thoughtful. "Fourth time this year," she says. "And it's not even Thanksgiving."

"Fourth?" he says. "Today, that time after the riff-off, and the first day back. What's the fourth time?"

She smirks at him again. "You were face down," she says. "And you had a pillow over your head."

Jesse tries to think back. "Oh," he says, after a minute, "Oh! Uh, really? He walked in then? That's... well, I guess that explains why he couldn't look me in the eye that week."

"He had no problem looking you in the..." Beca starts, but Jesse claps a hand over her mouth before she can finish the sentence. They wrestle playfully for a moment.

"What I don't know," Beca starts, once they've stopped messing around and they're spooned up together again. "Is which of us he's into."

Jesse blinks. "You think Benji is into one of us?"

Beca shrugs. "Don't you?" she says.

Jesse leans up onto his arm and follows her line of sight. Benji's Star Wars Wall is slightly differently configured this year, but the Death Star still looms over the room ominously.

"I..." he says. "Actually, I have no idea what Benji is into. Magic. Star Wars, obviously. I don't know. Performing, I guess?"

Beca rolls over and raises her eyebrows at him. "Listen, there's a lot of standing close to each other in our choreography, okay," Jesse says defensively. "And his pants are pretty tight."

"So, it's probably you then," she says.

He splutters at her. "What? That's not what I said. I said he's into the singing."

"And you're... open to suggestions," she says, wriggling her eyebrows at him.

Jesse feels himself go pink. He knew he never should have told her about the whole late night Treblemakers hot tub thing last year. "Yeah, well, you're the sexy version of Loki," he says.

She frowns at him and half sits up. "I'm what?" she says.

"Oh come on, we watched it last week. 'I do what I want'? Except with you it's more 'I do WHO I want'," Jesse says. "No? Seriously? Do you pay ANY attention when we're watching movies?"

"Uh, no," she says, as if stating the blindingly obvious. Jesse huffs and she rolls her eyes at him. "So Benji. You have no idea what he's into except Star Wars, magic, singing, and watching us while we're having sex."

"No," Jesse says, rolling onto his back and folding his arms over his chest grumpily. Then he sits up. "No, wait. What? He watches us? I thought he just walked in and right back out."

"Maybe he just likes a performance," Beca says, ignoring him.

"No wait, rewind," Jesse says, insistently. "He sticks around to watch?"

"You really do lose time when we're having sex, don't you?" Beca says. "You should think about it, though."

"Think about what?" Jesse says. Beca shushes him, rolls over and apparently gets ready to go to sleep. "Think about what, Beca? Beca?"

She just wriggles a bit in front of him and then falls still. Jesse stares at her, and then at Benji's Star Wars Wall. Beca lets out one tiny ladylike snore.

"I hate you," he tells the back of her head.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Benji/Jesse/(Beca) chapter.

After Beca mentions it, Jesse finds it increasingly difficult NOT to think about Benji, especially since Benji himself continues to walk in on them at regular intervals. Forewarned, and (probably arranged that way by Beca on purpose) looking in the right direction to see it, Jesse actually does notice the lengthy pauses before Benji rushes away, red with embarrassment.

"I'm really sorry, by the way," Jesse says to Benji one evening after rehearsal, as they walk across campus. The Bellas and Treblemakers are both safely through to the next round of the championship in spite of Beca's no good, horrible mashup of Call Me Maybe. (Which, yes, okay, he has caught himself singing at least thirty five times a day since Regionals. He really hates her sometimes.)

Benji opens his eyes wide at him. "For?" he says. "The solo thing? I'm fine with it, I think it sounds amazing when you sing it anyway."

"You do?" Jesse says, and he beams at Benji.

Benji nods fervently.

Jesse throws an arm over Benji's shoulders. "Thanks, dude," he says, squeezing Benji closer to him. The bright flush of pink over Benji's cheeks reminds him that that was not what he was apologizing for. "But actually, I meant sorry for you having to walk in on me and Beca all the time."

"Oh," says Benji, and his shoulder muscles go rigid under Jesse's arm. He moves away a few feet under the pretext of jogging up the stairs to their dorm. "Um, yeah. Probably I should be the one apologizing."

Jesse catches up to him, but they carry on walking to their room in silence. Benji immediately sits down on his bed and picks up a pack of cards. He starts to shuffle them from hand to hand in various fancy manoeuvres.

"It's just that Fat Amy sexiles Beca like, a lot, so we can't go to her room very often," Jesse says, sitting down on his own bed. "But it's kind of a dick move of me to sexile you as well."

"It's fine," Benji says, and he's still flustered and pink in a way Jesse really shouldn't find quite so adorable. "I mean, I don't... you guys are usually pretty clear about when you want the room."

Jesse's eyebrows pop up. "Really," he says, stretching the word out. "So, what you're saying is that you walk in on us on purpose." He grins at Benji slyly.

Benji's hands pause in their shuffling motion and the cards suddenly spring out of his hands and go flying around the room.

"No! I meant, that is... I can't..." Benji starts, and he's even redder now and utterly horrified. He stops suddenly, though, and makes for the door, obviously deciding that escape is the best tactic. His feet slip a little on the playing cards, which is the only reason Jesse makes it to the door ahead of him. He plasters himself against the door, blocking Benji from the door handle.

"Jesse," Benji says urgently, "Let me out."

Jesse just smiles at him. "You're pretty cute when you're embarrassed," he says, and Benji makes a little confused noise. Jesse reaches out and pulls on the front of Benji's button-down, dragging him a little closer. "You're pretty cute all the time."

Benji's eyes go huge. When Jesse tugs on his shirt again he sways a little closer. "But, Beca?" Benji says, sounding bewildered.

Jesse holds up his finger and then digs in his pocket with his free hand, pulling out his cellphone and putting it on speaker. The phone rings twice before Beca picks up. He can hear singing in the background, growing quieter as she obviously moves away from other people. "Hey," she says. "You're done with practice already? I hate you. You should write my gender and media paper for me if you've got so much free time."

"Is that a Lionel Ritchie/Tupac mash-up?" Jesse asks.

"Are you going to write my paper for me?" Beca says.

"Well, no," says Jesse.

"Then I'm not telling," Beca replies.

Benji shuffles his feet nervously, obviously feeling awkward, and Jesse tightens his hand on Benji's shirt.

"I should have said I have you on speaker. Benji's here with me," Jesse says.

"Oh! Hi Benji," Beca says, and Jesse recognizes that voice. Somewhere across campus, Beca is grinning victoriously. He knows why. He owes her big for winning this argument.

"H-hi Beca," says Benji, his voice at least half an octave higher than usual. He half-waves at the phone, and then looks mortified about his very existence.

"You know that time we talked about that thing," Jesse says, making eye contact with Benji. "And you said, if I asked first, I could drag Benji to bed and ravish him?"

Benji apparently chokes on air in response to this question, and Jesse pats his chest soothingly. Benji does not seem soothed.

"Uh-huh," says Beca. She is obviously trying not to laugh at him. "I actually kind of meant you should ask _him_ , but I guess this works too."

"Awesome," says Jesse. "So, can I drag you off and ravish you, Benji?"

Benji is shaking under the hand Jesse still has on his chest. "I... uh... I..." he stammers out. Jesse curls his fingers into Benji's shirt again and pulls him closer. Benji's eyes close long before Jesse touches their lips together. The kiss starts out hesitant, but by the time they separate Jesse is pressed up against the door and Benji has his fingers threaded through Jesse's hair. Benji still makes a muffled embarrassed noise and hides his face against Jesse's neck when Beca clears her throat pointedly, and probably, from the exasperated sound of it, for the fifteenth time, at the other end of the phone line.

"I think it's possible Benji's going to ravish _me_ ," Jesse tells her, breathlessly.

"I'm shocked, no, really," Beca says, dryly. "Did I mention already that I hate you? What did you do to deserve a night with Benji when I have another hour of practice and an all-nighter on my paper ahead of me?"

"I finished my paper this afternoon," Jesse says, smugly. Benji had come out of hiding while Beca was talking and was staring at the phone, big-eyed again.

"Hate you," Beca repeats. "I have to go sing now, but you should plan to tell me absolutely everything tomorrow. And, Benji?"

"Um, yes?" says Benji.

"Have lots of fun," Beca says, and her voice is warm and as kind as Beca ever is.

Benji nods and Jesse grins at him fondly. "He will," he says.

Beca sighs. "You boys are so making this up to me," she says, and hangs up.

Jesse half turns to toss his phone onto the bed. Benji looks vaguely shell-shocked. "Any more questions about Beca?" Jesse asks.

"Make it up to her?" Benji says.

Jesse laughs at him. "We _both_ think you're pretty cute," he says, confidingly, and reaches out to touch Benji's cheek when he flushes again. "Is that going to be a problem?"

Benji shakes his head. "No, not a problem. No problem at all," he says, though he looks half-thrilled, half-terrified at the idea.

"Tonight's just us, though," Jesse says. "And I really do think there should be some ravishing."

Benji snorts with amusement. "Ravishing," he says, with a shade of doubt in his voice.

"You were channelling your inner Han Solo pretty well a minute ago," says Jesse, encouragingly. "I think you should go with that im--"

He breaks off when Benji crowds closer to him where he's still leaning against the door, smiling and pink-cheeked but with a hint of determination. "Ravishing," Benji says again. "You like that?"

"Do your worst," says Jesse, and Benji grins at him, blindingly bright, before their lips meet again.


	3. Touch me like you do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The very very belated Benji/Beca/Jesse OT3 chapter. Inevitably, I also kind of want to write the story of the OCs who briefly appear in this chapter.
> 
> It's a few days early, but Merry Christmas, people who are still subscribed to my account even though I've not written anything for a geological age. <3

“Is that theatre club jackass going to hit on Benji all night?” Jesse says, frowning at the cup of unidentifiable alcohol he’d been handed by a guy moving through the crowded party with a tray. He holds the drink up to his nose to sniff it, recoils, and then passes it off to a random stranger as he squeezes past them.

 

Beca glances over towards the corner Benji had wandered off to when they arrived. He is talking animatedly to the theatre club jackass in question, his face is flushed pink and he is making expansive gestures with the hand not holding one of the questionable drinks.

 

“Eh, probably?” Beca says, taking a sip of her own drink and making a face at the taste. “You can’t have missed that he’s been hitting on Benji pretty regularly since the start of the semester.”

 

Across the room, Benji laughs suddenly and almost sloshes his drink down the front of his shirt. Jesse frowns even more darkly when the theatre club jackass leers when Benji licks the edge of his cup to catch the spillage.

 

“Seriously?” he says. “Does he just not know Benji’s taken? How can he _not_ know?”

 

Beca hums thoughtfully, and then passes him her cup. “I’m going to have to go rescue one of the baby Bellas from the men’s lacrosse team _again_ ,” she says. “What is wrong with these lacrosse guys?”

 

“Other than that they’ve dedicated their college lives to playing lacrosse?” Jesse says, shrugging. “I mean, I feel like the answer is in the question.”

 

Beca smirks at him and then sets off across the room on her rescue mission. Jesse takes a moment to admire the view as she goes, but then turns back to keep an eye on the whole Benji situation. The theatre club jackass has sidled a step closer and is now leaning on one arm over Benji, trapping Benji between his body and the wall. Jesse gulps down the remains of Beca’s drink, drops the cup on the floor and folds his arms.

It’s not that Jesse thinks that the details of his love life are all that interesting to anyone not directly involved, but Barden is a pretty small campus and the juiciest gossip tends to make the rounds pretty quickly. Nobody had been all that interested when he and Beca got together; even if Fat Amy had called them the _It Couple of American A Capella_ that one time _,_ he is pretty realistic about the kind of social status _that_ gives you on campus _._ Probably if he’d started dating Benji instead nobody would really have paid any attention either. It always seemed like if you were into singing and performing, people were more surprised if you turned out to be straight than anything else.

 

Throw all three of them in the mix though, and suddenly it had seemed like half the campus was talking about them. Jesse figures the story has travelled far enough that this jerkoff from the theatre club should know better than to hit on Benji every time they met.

 

“I’m not saying _don’t_ hook up with lacrosse players if you really want to,” Beca says as she arrives back by his side, one of the latest additions to the Bellas, Andrea, in tow. “I’m just saying that when you can smell a guy from that far away, you have to ask yourself about his standards of personal hygiene.”

 

“What do boys even have against showers?” Andrea asks. She looks suspiciously at Jesse.

 

“I take showers!” he says, defensively. “Every day!”

 

“You take showers with Benji every day,” Beca says. “Are you trying to claim hygiene is your major motivation?”

 

Jesse feels his face heat up as Andrea’s expression turns speculative. He clears his throat. “Uh,” he says, and then stops.

 

Luckily, Beca doesn’t really seem to want an answer. “Where’s my drink?” she asks, glancing around.

 

“He drank it so he could frown harder at the guy I was talking to,” Benji says from behind Jesse. “He couldn’t do the whole folding his arms thing if he was holding it, and you know he likes to do that.”

 

“He thinks it makes his shoulders look good,” Beca says, grinning at Benji over Jesse’s shoulder. “Not that he’s wrong.”

 

“You’re a tattling tattler,” says Jesse, frowning and folding his arms and then unfolding them quickly when Andrea starts to laugh.

 

“Who is?” Benji asks, slinging an arm over his shoulder.

 

“Both of you,” says Jesse, letting Benji pull him in close. Benji seems to radiate heat when he drinks and while the room is already stupidly hot, Jesse’s happy to feel his warm weight pressed up against him. “Beca was just telling Andrea about your… _our_ showering routine.”

 

Benji blinks and opens and closes his mouth a few times. “What? Why?”

 

Beca waves a hand dismissively. “Not like that,” she says. “Or, that part was only implied. Mainly I was agreeing that you do in fact shower.”

 

“Um,” says Benji, looking adorably confused. Jesse slides an arm around his waist and hugs him in tighter. “Yes?”

 

“It’s surprisingly rare,” Andrea tells him, with a sigh. “You can smell some guys across the room. Do they just not notice? Do their friends not tell them?”

 

Benji looks alarmed. He leans in to Jesse. “You’d tell me if you could smell me from across the room, right?”

 

“ _I’d_ tell you,” Beca tells him. “Maybe that guy you were talking to—“

 

“Dwight?” says Benji.

 

“Dwight? Really? Typical,” Beca says, before steam-rollering on. “Maybe he’d tell you. He was standing close enough.”

 

“Ha!” exclaims Jesse. He points a finger at Beca. “I knew you weren’t okay with it! You are so not into sharing your toys.”

 

He pauses. “Er. Not that Benji is a toy. Not that you don’t know how to share,” he says hastily. Benji is shaking with laughter beside him, but Benji has been drinking unidentifiable party drinks and might not see the abyss that has just opened up under Jesse’s feet. “I’m going to stop talking now, but ha! I knew it.” He pokes his finger at her again.

 

“I definitely don’t share with guys called Dwight,” Beca says.

 

“To be fair, his parents are to blame for his name,” Andrea interjects. “Though he could use his middle name or something I guess.”

 

“His middle name is Turbil,” says Benji. He shrugs when Beca and Andrea look at him blankly. “We have a class together. He has it written on his folder.”

 

“Wow, his parents don’t love him at all, did they?” says Andrea.

 

“Benji has better taste, anyway,” Beca declares.

 

“I do?” says Benji.

 

Jesse and Beca both look at him. “Uh. Yes, obviously I do. I have a lot of… taste. Obviously,” he says, and suddenly Jesse wants to laugh too. “What are we talking about again?”

 

Andrea is giggling, and Beca breaks into a grin as well. She steps in close to Benji, and leans up to kiss him. Benji’s fingers clench tight in Jesse’s t-shirt. Beca has one hand behind Benji’s neck and the other pressing lightly to Jesse’s pecs. He reaches up to cover her hand with his. When she ends the kiss and steps back a couple of inches, Benji opens his eyes slowly.

 

“You have the taste not to do anything more with Dwight than flirt with him to make Jesse jealous,” Beca says, quirking an eyebrow at Benji.

 

It’s hard to tell in the dim light in their corner, but Jesse thinks Benji flushes pinker. “I like the arm folding thing,” he says, and then he ducks his head and grins mischievously at Jesse from beneath his lashes.

 

“That’s…” Jesse starts, but he can’t decide how to finish that sentence, so he just uses the arm he still has wrapped around Benji’s waist to swing him around to kiss him too. Benji’s lips are sweet from the hideous party cocktail and soft and warm from kissing Beca. She still has her hands on both of them, and for a moment Jesse feels like he’s suspended in mid-air and the only thing keeping him airborne is this connection with the two of them.

 

A loud cough nearby interrupts this fantasy and their kiss. “Wow, okay,” Andrea says.

 

Jesse steps back from Beca and Benji reluctantly and looks over at her. She flaps a hand in front of her in an exaggerated fanning motion. “Suddenly I’m wondering if I could get some lacrosse boys to make out in front of me. You know, since Beca doesn’t share her toys.”

 

Beca smirks at her. “I don’t,” she agrees. “You could ask the blond one. He’s crazy in love with the one in the green shirt.”

 

“How do you even know that?” Jesse asks. “You avoid even looking at the lacrosse team.”

 

“He was in my freshman comp class and wrote a lot of really bad, really unsubtle love poems,” says Beca. “It was memorable.”

 

Benji shudders. “I don’t want to know what a lacrosse guy thinks is a good metaphor do I?” he asks.

 

“He compared his eyes to frogs,” says Beca.

 

Andrea is ignoring them in favour of looking calculatingly over at the men’s lacrosse team where they are toasting each other with cups full of unidentifiable liquor. “Interesting,” she says. She smiles brilliantly at the three of them, waves casually and wanders off in that direction.

 

“At least I’ve never compared either of you to reptiles,” Benji says. He pauses. “Or are frogs amphibians? I never remember.”

 

Jesse tilts his head. “Hmm,” he says, thoughtfully. “Better question. What metaphors _are_ you using? And where are you using them?”

 

Benji looks trapped for a second. “Uh,” he says. He looks imploringly at Beca, as if he thinks she’ll rescue him. She just raises an eyebrow at him.

 

Benji sighs. “If I said song lyrics, would you be mad?” he asks.

 

“Only that I haven’t heard them,” Beca says, and she shoves lightly at Benji. “Let’s go. We'll have a musical interlude, then other kinds of interludes.”

 

Benji’s expression morphs into a nauseated mixture of thrilled and terrified at the thought of showing them his music, but he nods and he and Beca turn to leave. Jesse lingers for just a second longer, looking around the party. There are cheers as another bottle of alcohol is poured into the giant bowl where the drinks are being mixed. Andrea is talking to two lacrosse guys – one blond, one in a green shirt – and smiling wickedly. Dwight the theatre club jackass is frowning at him from across the room.

 

Jesse tries not to grin but he doesn’t succeed. “You coming, Jesse?” Benji calls back, and Jesse bites his lip and rushes to catch up.


End file.
